Gildor Inglorion
by Talking Hawk
Summary: A tale of how Gildor, the minor elf from the book FOTR, intertwound around Frodo and Sam's lives (more than they know, for sure). No slash.


Gildor Inglorion By Talking Hawk  
  
Author's Note: For those of you have not read the book, Gildor is an Elf that Frodo meets before leaving the Shire in FOTR. Even though he's very minor, something about him just absolutely fascinated me. He's so cool! =) The story's in his POV, and some of the lines are straight from the book. I'm also listening to the "A Walk to Remember" CD as I'm writing this, if anyone's curious. o_O  
  
Courage is found in the most unlikely of places.  
  
But there was anything but courage that I saw in those young eyes. Even while hiding behind those hedge of bushes, I could see his fallen expression quite plainly. The young hobbit sat beneath the small tree in his yard, his elbow propped up on his knee. His face was contorted in that of pain, suffering, and of not knowing what to do.  
  
His name was Baggins. Frodo Baggins.  
  
His father had been Drogo, and his mother Primula. But they were no more. The boy's second-cousin, Bilbo, had been a long-time companion of mine. I, more so than the other exiled Elves in my company, met with him on summer eves to talk beneath the starlit trees. An extraordinary hobbit, if I had ever known one.  
  
Our friendship had spurred a change in conversation a few weeks earlier on a dark night indeed. A few years before that, there had been a dreadful accident - one that ended with the deaths of his first and second cousin, Drogo and Primula. Their leaving the Circles of the Earth had left their only son, Frodo, parentless and without a guardian.  
  
He had spent the past few years East of here in Buckland, among his Brandybuck relations. However, though Bilbo had not informed me of the reason, he had open up his heart and his home to the boy. The papers were signed, and Frodo was brought to Bag End.  
  
My heart went out to Bilbo's young heir. Having lost so much, to only in the end lose all familiarity of his adopted home in Brandy Hall to be brought to this new foreign place. No one was to blame for this, as it was all done in the boy's best interest. However, I felt the incredible need to do something.  
  
I sighed to myself, hopelessly walking behind the row of bushes. 'What can I do?' I had thought to myself. Despite this negative view of mine, I still felt like I had been assigned to cure the Sadness that sickened this boy. I felt as though it were up to me - to do what, I knew not.  
  
I continued about my way, my head hung. Before I knew it, I had strode about the right side of Bag End, and found myself staring into the garden of Bilbo's next-door neighbor. I looked up from my deep thought to find a lad delving carefully into the tilled earth, withdrawing trinkets of harvest and putting them into a basket.  
  
Carrots.  
  
I folded my hands behind my back, and cocked my head to the side curiously. I know not what fascinated me about this new hobbit, but as I watched his hands carefully moving through the soil, tenderly wreaping what the Earth had offered him. A great understanding seized my heart - this hobbit loved the Earth. He loved it as I thought only Elves could.  
  
As I watched the sandy-haired creature, a thought struck me. If he could love the tilled soil, something that is only alive in a manner that no creature is, he could certainly love a friend just as well.  
  
And that's what young Frodo was in dire need of, I decided - a friend.  
  
But how to make them cross paths? Both were fenced into their own homesteads, separated only by their lack of desire to unhitch their gates and come across one another. It was only a matter of will. But, oh, the irony of it all.  
  
Just as a sigh was ready to escape my lips, an idea struck me. A grin crossed my face, eyeing the basket of carrots that the boy continued to fill. I only needed a distraction.  
  
* * *  
  
The Opportunity came about an hour later. And what an Opportunity it was!  
  
"Sam," an older gentlehobbit called from the back door of the smial, "your sisters are done fixin' up dinner. Why don'tcha come on in now an' eat?" "Just one minute, Gaffer!" the boy cried out politely, hurrying to fetch up a few more carrots before he went inside. The man beamed proudly at his son's busyness, and slipped indoors once more.  
  
I chuckled softly from behind the hedge that lined the back of their yard. Such a little worker.  
  
Finally, Sam withdrew from his duties and waltzed inside the smial. The spark of my mischievousness lighting up within my heart, I was greatly relieved to see that the lad had left the basket in his wake.  
  
Bounding over the hedge and landing soundlessly upon the carpet of grass beneath my boots, I stalked toward the basket.  
  
* * *  
  
Oh, the brilliance! The sheer brilliance.  
  
I chuckled to myself, praising my clever scheme. I stood stooped over on the side of the dirt road, but did not worry myself in being seen. Any hobbit in his right mind would be indoors feasting upon his dinner - the meal they had in the middle of the day - at that particular time.  
  
I held the basket in one hand, and delicately placed the orange vegetables upon the ground, spacing them out according to how many I had. I shuffled backwards, leading the trail up the road.  
  
"I'm *telling* you," a voice suddenly sounded. I straightened up, thoroughly alarmed. Two hobbits appeared at the door of the smial I was moving away from. One was the lad I had seen gardening earlier, and the other was a girl that was a bit older than him. Sam walked a bit out of the door, giving the other hobbit a pleading look. "I love your soup - you know I do."  
  
He placed his hand to his chest to display his heartfelt words. I chuckled soundlessly to myself. Quite a lady charmer already!  
  
The girl fattened her bottom lip, crossing her arms. "Uh huh." "Really," the boy said, walking around to the side of the hobbit hole while still looking back at her, "I do. It's just that it needs a few bits of carrots in it."  
  
My eyes widened horrifically, eyeing the basket in my hands. Carrots.?  
  
"Hey!" a voice sounded - obviously the boy. "Where did the carrots go?!"  
  
Uh, oops.  
  
Sam ran up to the front gate, and seeing the first carrot on the ground, he unhitched it. He knelt down to it, and picked it up, looking upon it with inquiry. "What in the world.?"  
  
I glanced about nervously when I felt my feet kick off the ground. Stealthily, my body flung over the fence, landing silently into the back of the Baggins lot. I watched with great intent as the hobbit continued mumbling to himself, picking up the carrots one by one as he went forth.  
  
"Wonder how they got here . very odd, yes . must've been some pesky hare."  
  
At this, I put my hands over my mouth and rolled about, trying to suppress this new fit of laughter. A hare, was I? A clever one at that!  
  
According to plan, he continued up the road, and eventually made a turn at the front of the Baggins' yard. Frodo looked up, and cocked his head to the side much as I had when I first had come upon the young gardener.  
  
After a time, I suppose Sam felt that he was being watched. Half-way bent over to pick up one of the remaining carrots, he peered through the fence, and saw Frodo staring at him. Slowly, the younger of the two straightened up, gulping down his embarrassment.  
  
"Hullo, sir," Sam spoke. "I don't believe I've seen ya around 'ere before."  
  
"That's because I'm not from around here," Frodo replied, a slight snap in his voice. They stared at one another a moment, a glare in the Baggins' eyes. Sam caught on that maybe the other wasn't really enjoying his company.  
  
"Well, I suppose I'll be off. A nice day to you, Mister." Sighing reluctantly, the other said, "Frodo. My name is Frodo."  
  
"Well, Mr. Frodo," Sam said, turning away a bit, "I have to be off back to dinner, if ya don't mind." The lad was about to start walking when he caught a glance of something in the other's eyes - that of loneliness, regret even.  
  
The younger sighed quietly, contemplating what to do. Should he befriend this stranger? Finally, his amiability taking over, Sam spoke, "Say.you wouldn't be hungry, would ya? Me sister Daisy is a mean cook."  
  
Frodo stared at him a moment, but then his face cracked into a smile. And wider that smile became.  
  
"It would be my pleasure." His voice trailed off, looking expectantly at the other for assistance.  
  
"Sam."  
  
"Sam." A new smile crossed young Frodo's face. Testing out this new name upon his tongue, he spoke it once more. "Sam."  
  
* * *  
  
"Sam," I whispered. He looked up, startled. Throughout the course of the evening, he had been staring in awe of the Elves in my company who chose to sing. He had not hummed, or made the slightest utterance eversince the music had begun. Slipping away from the campfire around which Frodo amused my friends with his Elvish, I beckoned the other hobbit to come hither.  
  
"Come. We must speak."  
  
Reluctantly, he tore himself away from the small celebration, joining me to venture into the darkness outside of the circle of firelight. Two or three of my friends saw me, and came with us as well.  
  
His mouth began moving, but no words came out. He then pressed his lips shut, staring at his feet with embarrassment at not finding the right words to say. For a long time, I had been aware of his love for all things Elvish - Bilbo had told me so himself. I could only imagine what his heart might be feeling now, having fulfilled his lifelong dream of looking upon the Firstborn.  
  
"You need not speak," I spoke gently, smiling fondly. Gazing down at him only brought back my memories of watching him tend his garden - especially that first time. "But open your ears, for the words I am about to speak are that of grave importance."  
  
He nodded meekly, his hands wrapping about themselves uncomfortably. Shifting his weight to one foot, he rubbed his foothairs with the other foot as if he had an itch.  
  
I fought back the smile and took on a solemn expression. "I know not what is ahead in your path, but something tells me that it is something more than these Black Riders. You must stay with your master, and do everything within your power to keep him from danger. The things you may encounter will be fearsome indeed, but don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee. Don't you leave him."  
  
He snapped his head up, staring at me with a mixture of shock and disbelief. ".Leave him?" he finally asked, nearly crying out the words. I blinked, and he continued, a tad flustered, "I never mean to! I am going with him, even if he should climb to the Moon." A great emotion welled up within my heart at these words, smiling at the creature fondly. For one so small, his heart was stouter than even the tallest of men I had before encountered.  
  
"And if any of those Black Riders should try to stop him," he spoke, narrowing his eyes and holding up an arched fist, displaying his readiness to battle, "they'll have Samwise Gamgee to reckon with!"  
  
My friends behind me laughed good-humoredly at this, and I placed my hands on my hips, smiling proudly at the hobbit.  
  
"I'm sure they will," I replied genuinely, beaming for getting the response I could have only dreamed for. "I pity the fool that dares try to, Master Hobbit. You are most certainly a force to be reckoned with."  
  
He blushed a bit red, his eyes gradually falling back to his feet. Finally, he spoke, "I wouldn't want Mr. Frodo to be getting worried. We should prob'ly be gettin' back right about now." I nodded, and my friends chuckled once more before turning back to the camp. As we walked along, I placed an appreciative hand on the hobbit's shoulder.  
  
"Thank you, Samwise." I whispered. He blinked up at me.  
  
"Well, no offense, sir, but even if ya hadn't asked, I would've taken care of him anyhow. Even without sayin' anythin'."  
  
"I know," I said, nodding my head fervently - almost reverently. "I know." 


End file.
